


Heart of the World

by lizook12



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Future Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-10
Updated: 2014-03-10
Packaged: 2018-01-15 06:52:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 970
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1295539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lizook12/pseuds/lizook12
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“How many times do I have to tell you to stop calling us that?”<br/>“About as many times as I have to clean this place up apparently.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Heart of the World

**Author's Note:**

> Look, I don't even know anymore. Thanks to **effie214** for providing a snip of dialogue that fanned this stupid idea. 
> 
> Title from the Lady Antebellum song of the same name.

Gritting her teeth, she pops the lid off the paint can, grabs a brush, and turns back to the wall.

She’s still not entirely sure how the area to the right of her desk became so marred—none of the boys were prepared to completely own up to it—but she’s willing to bet it involved a training exercise devolving into horse play.

You would think they were ten-year-olds, not fully grown men.

The scratches are more varied than she realized and she shakes her head, slicking the paint over them.

“Hey...” Relaxing against her desk, he tilts his head towards her.

“Hmm?” Her brush stays steady on the wall as she glances over her shoulder at him. She’d heard him—the cadence of his feet on the steps, the soft exhale as he shrugged out of his coat—before he’d even opened his mouth and she can’t stop the slight smile that comes with that realization; it’s just another mark of how attune they are to each other.

“Did we just have some extra paint lying around or—”

The snort of outrage kills any further comment and he wonders if he should take cover.

He may be able to outmaneuver her physically, but there are much worse ways his other half could hurt him.

“...have _any_ idea of how much time and effort it took to clean this place up after the earthquake? You’re lucky I don’t make you leave your shoes at the door so you don’t track god knows what in here.”

He can’t help but grin at her enthusiasm, the way her shoulders lift as her brush moves boldly over the walk. “The dog poop only happened once and it was Roy’s fault.”

“Oh, no. No, you don’t.” Pausing, she sweeps her hair out of her eyes, levels a glare at him. “This was going on _way_ before Roy joined Team Arrow.”

“How many times do I have to tell you to stop calling us that?”

“About as many times as I have to clean this place up apparently.”

Her mouth curls up into a half smile and god, he just wants to kiss it off her.

“...isn’t the first time training has gone completely insane and I’ve been forced to paint or, god help us all, reattach furniture legs because—”

“Who said we were training?”

The look she levels him hovers between “ _do I look like an idiot?_ ” and “ _please, we both know I know better_ ” and he shrugs in reply, heat flaring over the back of his neck as he remembers just how the gouges in the wall happened.

(So he’d bought a ring months ago; so he _hadn’t_ worked up the courage to ask her yet.

How was it Digg’s place to keep reminding him?)

“And, hey, remember the time my monitor had to be replaced because a stray tennis ball took it out?”

She jabs the brush towards him, paint flying off and splattering across her cheek as she does.

“Felicity...”

Turning back to the wall, she ignores him, voice dropping to a harried mutter as she begins to work once more. “Why should we have respect for the technology that helps us get the job done though? I might as well make up a disciplinary plan at this rate. And no, there won’t be any spanking involved. Though, I mean, if you think I’m going to start picking up your socks at home or...” Inhaling sharply, she closes her eyes for a brief moment. “How did recon at McKay Corps go?”

Snagging a brush from the multipack on the desk next to him, he crosses the short space between them. “Good, you were right about the guard rotation.”

“I knew there was something off in data stream. Can we circumvent it like Digg thought?”

“Yeah, shouldn’t be too hard.” He runs his brush over the wall, leaning closer to her. “Are you really going to make us write an essay the next time this happens?”

Angling her body towards his, she grins, her only response the slight lift of her eyebrow.

Laughing, he smiles in return, his fingers brushing over her cheek. “I tried to tell you before, there’s some paint...”

The rest of the sentence catches in his throat as she leans into his palm and warmth washes over his body. His other arm crushes her to him, paint brush clattering to the floor as his mouth covers hers.

Sighing, she smiles against him, her tongue caressing his as her fingers clutch at the hem of his shirt, pull him even closer.

Breaking away, he takes her brush from her, smirks at his newly tie-dyed shirt, and tosses it to the ground with his before ducking his head once more.

This time the kiss is all heat.

Tongues and teeth and the press of her hips against his driving him absolutely insane. 

His thumb strokes down her cheek, over her jaw, and she gasps beneath him, her fingers curling into his waist as he steps forward once more, caging her in against the—

“Shit.” She pushes at his shoulder, teeth tugging at her bottom lip as she looks down at the paint smeared over the back of her skirt. “Come on, we can let Digg and Roy put some time in; have them do the touch ups and _you_ can make the rest up to me when we get home.”

Grinning, he sweeps her hair to the side, brushes his lips over her throat. “Mmm, shower?”

“I was thinking more about finally deciding on what new tile we want for the bathroom.” She can’t completely quell the laughter that bubbles up at the part stunned, part dejected look that settles on his face and she presses a kiss to the corner of his mouth, laces her fingers through his. “Shower.”


End file.
